


40 miles to canada

by BluebarrieMuzzins



Series: Three's Company [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Current Events, Endearments, Established Relationship, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Presents, Soft Hockey Boys, Stuffed Toys, Sunrises, Tea, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, only temporarily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebarrieMuzzins/pseuds/BluebarrieMuzzins
Summary: “T-Tyson,” J.T. squeaked, dropping the jersey so Tyson could see his face. “Why does this jersey have your last name but my number?”J.T. heard Tyson audibly swallow. He motioned to the stuffed animal. “Open the brandy barrel on Bernie.”Dropping the jersey into his lap, J.T. grabbed Bernie. It took him a moment but he eventually located the button that opened the brandy barrel around Bernie’s neck. When he pressed it, the barrel opened with a soft tck.
Relationships: J. T. Compher/Tyson Jost
Series: Three's Company [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142729
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	40 miles to canada

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again! I'm not entirely sure where this came from but I'm really happy with it. I just love these two dorks so I really like writing anything for them, honestly. If you'd like to request some things for them or anyone else, feel free to hit me up on Tumblr! My RPF blog is @icecoldhomeruns! I write baseball RPF too, in case you want to request that as well. I just haven't written any since the Blue Jays were knocked out of the Wild Card, so I may be a little rusty. just a forewarning. All that being said, I hope you enjoy this fic!
> 
> If you found this by Googling yourself, are in this yourself, or know someone in this, please click back. No harm was meant in the creation of this fic. It's fictitious and was written to help me cope with quarantine and the stresses of that.
> 
> Title from "Albert Bound" by Paul Brandt.

The sun was rising along the horizon, illuminating the mountains in wistful light. J.T. was sitting on his balcony, sipping idly on a mug of tea. The temperature outside was somewhat nippy but he couldn’t stand sitting inside the house right now; he had been stuck inside the confines of its walls long enough to last himself a lifetime. He needed to enjoy some fresh air before he went insane; the wonderful thing was he was on his own balcony so nobody could stop him.

Taking another sip of tea, he heard a wolf howl from somewhere in the distance. J.T.’s back splintered with lukewarm sensations from the howl. He wasn’t exactly scared; he knew he was safe because his balcony was high enough off the ground. No, what he was feeling was excitement from being surrounded by the wonders of nature.

Another howl sounded off in the distance making another lukewarm splintering sensation work down his back. He sipped from the mug once again, his lips puckering when he realized the tea had started to cool. Cold tea wasn’t his favourite thing ever but he would drink it anyway; J.T. didn’t like wasting food and drinks once he had already started consuming them.

A sudden vibration made him jostle in his seat. He jostled so suddenly that he spilled some of his tea on his blanket. Cursing, he placed the mug on the patio table. As he was rubbing two pieces of the blanket together to reduce the stain, a more incessant vibration filled the air. Dropping the blanket, he glanced at the patio table. J.T. noticed that the noise was being caused by his cellphone vibrating against the glass top of said table. Grabbing his cellphone, he smiled when it displayed a video chat request from his boyfriend; he accepted the request as fast as humanly possible.

“Tys, baby, hi,” J.T. said, waving at Tyson.

Tyson smiled, waving back. “Hello, J.T.. How’s my snocone doing?”

Blushing, J.T. hid the lower half of his face under the blanket. Tyson had started calling him that as a joke because he had found out that J.T.’s first job in high school was working at a snocone stand at a summer carnival. The joke had been going on for their entire two-year relationship because J.T. secretly liked being called a snocone but would never admit that to Tyson. The look Tyson got on his face every time he thought J.T. was flustered was too precious to chance destroying.

Chuckling, Tyson rolled onto his side on the screen. J.T. felt his heartstrings pull taut in his chest. Uncovering his face, he looked at Tyson and quirked his lips awkwardly. Tyson’s own lips faltered from their confident smile. He sighed, lifting his arm and resting his head on his hand.

“I know, J.T.. I know,” he said, raking his other hand down his face. “I want to be with you as much as you want to be with me.”

“I still feel bad that I couldn’t go to British Columbia with you,” J.T, sighed, feeling the tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Taking the corner of the blanket, he wiped his eyes. “We both need each other right now. And I had to stay in Boulder because I lost my passport and couldn’t find it before the border closed.”

“Snocone, hey, it’s alright. Love doesn’t have to be up close and personal. What matters to me is that I still get to talk to you whenever we have the chance.”

Before J.T. could respond, the front gate intercom beeped.

“Tyson, hang on. Someone’s at the intercom.” J.T. noticed a faint smile on Tyson’s face as he placed his phone on the patio table.

The intercom beeped a second time before he reached it. Rolling his eyes at the impatience of whoever it was, J.T. pressed the button.

“Yes? Can I help you?” J.T. asked, a little annoyed.

“I have a delivery for Joseph-Taylor Compher. Is this the right address?” The lady that responded sounded annoyed as well. Two’s a company, J.T. figured.

“Yes, that’s me. I’ll buzz you in.” The lady hummed as J.T. punched in his code for the front gate. A loud buzz echoed in the foyer to signal that he had entered the correct numbers. “Alright. The gate should be open now.”

The lady’s response was cut off by J.T. releasing his finger from the intercom button. He went to sit on the living room couch, his mind racing slightly. He hadn’t remembered ordering anything but he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that he had; his mind was all over the place recently so it was a distinct possibility that he might have purchased something and forgotten.

J.T. was counting the ceiling tiles when he heard someone knock on the door. Rushing to the door, he unlatched the deadbolt before swinging it open. As he had been expecting, the delivery lady was standing there.

“Joseph-Taylor Compher, right?” The lady asked. When J.T. nodded, she handed him the gift basket she had been holding. She handed J.T. a pen and turned her clipboard to face him; she motioned along the line on the bottom of the page. “Sign there and this is all yours.”

Crudely scribbling his signature, J.T. smiled awkwardly at the delivery lady. She turned the clipboard back to herself and nodded. She didn’t say anything before she walked down the driveway. J.T. blinked as he stood in the doorway holding the gift basket.

After a moment of shock, he backed into the foyer and closed the door. He shook his head to make sure this was real; when it was clear that it was, he returned to the patio, the gift basket in hand, to resume his call with Tyson.

J.T. placed the gift basket on the table, slid into his seat, and picked up his cellphone. Tyson quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“Who was it?” He asked.

“A delivery lady,” J.T. said, situating himself under the blanket. “She had some kind of gift basket. Which is weird because I didn’t order anything.”

Tyson smiled, making a vague motion with his hand. “You should open it. I wanna see who had the balls to send something to my partner.”

Quirking his eyebrow, J.T. propped his cellphone against the umbrella in the middle of the patio table.

“Is there a card?”

“Not that I see,” J.T. said, crinkling the translucent, red wrapping in between his fingers. “I’m just going to open it. Alright?”

“Be my guest,” Tyson chuckled, grinning.

Not wanting the wrapping to blow away, J.T. used his cellphone as a paperweight until he could go inside to the garbage can. The first thing he grabbed from the basket was a stuffed animal that looked like Bernie, the Avalanches’ mascot. He smiled as he squeezed it against his chest. J.T. thought he heard Tyson’s breathing falter but he was just as sure it could’ve been the wind against his juniper bush. The next thing he grabbed was a coffee mug. It had Tyson’s name and number on it. J.T. smiled, placing it on the patio table. The last thing in the basket was an Avalanche jersey. Carefully, he removed it from the basket. Looking at the back of the jersey, he nearly had a heart attack.

“T-Tyson,” J.T. squeaked, dropping the jersey so Tyson could see his face. “Why does this jersey have your last name but my number?”

J.T. heard Tyson audibly swallow. He motioned to the stuffed animal. “Open the brandy barrel on Bernie.”

Dropping the jersey into his lap, J.T. grabbed Bernie. It took him a moment but he eventually located the button that opened the brandy barrel around Bernie’s neck. When he pressed it, the barrel opened with a soft  _ tck _ .

Something clattered to the ground and made J.T. look toward his cellphone screen. Tyson was nervously staring at his partner, fidgeting with his hands. J.T. smiled nervously at Tyson before bending down to see what it was that had fallen from the brandy barrel.

The sun appeared a little higher on the horizon then; as it did, it cast a ray of light across something metallic that was next to the chair leg. Raising a confused eyebrow, J.T. grabbed the metallic object. His breath hitched and his heart rate doubled when he realized what it was.

Leaning back up to look at Tyson, J.T. showed his partner what he had found.

“Tyson…” J.T. trailed off, honestly unsure of what he had wanted to say in the first place.

“I know this isn’t ideal, J.T.,” Tyson said, wringing his hands together. After a moment, he shifted his positioning so that he was on one knee. “I also know I’m half out of frame but this is what we’ve got right now, so hear me out.” Tyson’s voice was faltering. J.T. felt the tears prickling his eyes as he squeezed Bernie close to his body to simulate Tyson being there. 

“You’ve been the best partner in the last two years that any man could ask for. You’ve been there for me ever since I debuted with the Avalanche. You’ve helped me through injuries; helped me through scoring droughts; helped me through losing streaks. You made the winning better; you’ve made the losing easier. The guys love you already; my mom and Kacey love you.  _ I love you. _ Will you marry me, J.T.?”

J.T. had started crying when Tyson had said that he had helped him through his injuries; he was crying even harder now. 

“Yes, Tyson. Of fucking course, I’ll marry you.”

Tyson leaned back into the frame; J.T.’s heart stuttered when he saw the tear streaks on his cheeks and the red tint to his eyes. Tyson wiped his face with his shirt sleeves, chuckling happily the entire time. J.T. matched his fiance’s action, wiping his own face with his blanket.

“Hey, snocone,” Tyson said after wiping his eyes.

“Hm?” J.T.replied, dropping the blanket into his lap.

“You actually have to put the ring  _ on _ now that you said yes.”

“Oh… oh fuck,” J.T. mumbled, sliding the ring on the correct finger. Hitting himself in the forehead, he sheepishly looked at Tyson. “Sorry about that. I guess I was just so excited that I forgot.”

Tyson chuckled, wiping his face one more time. “It’s okay, snocone. We just made a great memory to share with our kids about how their parents got engaged.”

J.T. felt that same lukewarm splintering sensation from the wolf howl make its way down his back again.

“I’m so ready to start a family with you,” J.T. whispered, hoping Tyson wouldn’t hear. Even though Tyson had brought up kids, he was still tentative about that part of himself.

“Then we’ll start one as soon as possible,” Tyson replied, smiling endearingly.

J.T. lit up, feeling more tears prickling the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away with his shirt sleeve before looking at Tyson fondly.

“I love you, Tyson Jost.”

“I love you too, Joseph-Taylor Jost.”

J.T. felt his heart swell.

Joseph-Taylor Jost.  _ J.T. Jost. _

Yeah, he  _ definitely _ liked the sound of that.


End file.
